All Girls Love Severus Snape
by Lady Lanera
Summary: Headmaster Snape learns just how much he's loved by his fans.


**Disclaimer: **J.K. owns Harry Potter.

**A/N: **So, I've been participating in the MiM experience on Facebook for the past few days, which has ate up my writing time. Either way, this story is based off some interactions on Headmaster Snape's MiM page. In fact, the scene in Headmaster Snape's office with his fans actually happened on the Headmaster's page. Many thanks go to them and Headmaster Snape MiM for much entertainment these past few days. The last and final thing, Aurora, Harry, Draco, and Angel used in this story are from a part of my "Summer School" series. You don't really need to have read the series to understand that Snape is married to Aurora, he adopted Harry and Draco, and Angel is his daughter with Aurora (who is tutored by Remus). It is implied that a certain someone has been defeated. All right, enough of the notes. Enjoy. :D

**Attack of the Fans**

Frowning, the tall, dark-haired wizard stared at his post as he sat in the Great Hall. He could feel his wife's eyes on him, but he merely grabbed his goblet and took a drink, pointedly ignoring the hundreds of envelopes in front of him. Seriously, this hero worship was getting to be a bit cumbersome.

"Aren't you going to open them, Severus?"

"No."

"Your fangirls are going to be quite distraught to learn that," she said, smiling faintly.

"As if I care about obsessed witches professing their undying love to me," he replied with a hint of a growl. When one more letter landed on top of his pile, he growled, glaring at the offending bird. Couldn't the ruddy bird see that his wife was sitting right next to him already upset by the spectacle?

"It appears that they're losing some interest, though, Severus," she said, sighing as she took another bite of toast. "Yesterday you had what—six hundred missives?"

He merely inclined his head. He didn't have the heart to say that he actually had received about four hundred letters earlier that morning in his office. He frowned when a few more birds soared in from the rafters towards him. He glared at the birds as they landed in front of him and dropped their letters.

"The next damn bird that delivers a letter to me will be a dead one," he snarled, holding his gaze with the five birds that expected him to feed them treats. He chuckled darkly when the birds instantly took flight. It felt good to scare somebody, even if that was a bird nowadays.

Ever since he helped his two adoptive sons, Harry and Draco, overcome darkness two days ago, he had been receiving letters from witches all over the world. Some witches only wanted to offer their gratitude to him. Others wanted more, much more from him. Just yesterday some witch offered to please him in any way he wanted. A shudder passed down his spine at that thought.

Fortunately, the boys' fangirls were for the most part rather subdued, expressing only their sincerest thanks to them. A few of them wanted to kiss the boys, but luckily both politely declined the offers before they moved on to the next letter.

He stiffened instantly when his wife pressed a kiss against his cheek. He hadn't noticed her until then. He frowned in response, watching her leave out the side door. She might not have said that it was bothering her, but he knew that it was. After all, what witch wouldn't be upset over her husband receiving mail from hundreds of other witches?

Frowning, he flicked his hand towards the letters, banishing them to his office. He'd reply to them later when his wife was in class. It was better that way for all of them. He then continued his breakfast in silence, pointedly ignoring the looks from his coworkers.

Ten minutes later, he stood, briskly walking towards the doors to head to the dungeons to prepare for the day. While he was Hogwarts' Headmaster, he unfortunately had to fill in for Horace Slughorn since the man came down with a bad case of Wizard's flu. He instantly clenched his teeth when the piranha fangirls at Hogwarts stood and flooded over to him. How had his image as a bastard been ruined this badly?

"Professor Snape! Professor Snape!" cried the girls, grabbing onto his robes.

"Unhand me this moment," he snarled, glaring at them. He then clenched his teeth when the girls suddenly leapt towards him and hugged him. "I am not a goddamn teddy bear!"

"Oh, I love the way you smell," a Hufflepuff fourth-year mumbled against his torso.

"You're so dreamy, Professor," moaned a few Slytherin seventh-years.

"I want to run my hands through your hair."

"Oh, dear Merlin," he grumbled. They were worse than his wife. He inhaled slowly, hearing a flurry of purrs around him from the girls in response. "If you do not unhand me, ladies, I will be forced to hex you." So, he wouldn't really, but he needed to get to class.

"Please, Professor Snape, please hex me. I've been a—"

"Five hundred points from Hufflepuff!" he shouted, feeling thoroughly horrified now.

"I love it when you take points, Professor."

He glanced down at the girls, inhaling slowly to keep from shoving them all back from him. He then chuckled softly as a thought occurred to him. Well, desperate times called for desperate measures.

"Potter! Malfoy! Where are your shirts?" he shouted towards his two adoptive sons. The minute the girls looked away and released him, he ran as fast as he could towards the dungeons. Those girls would be the death of him yet.

When he was safely behind the classroom door, he quickly enacted the wards to withstand a troll attack, which sometimes was what it felt like. He pressed his back against the door, sighing in relief as he felt them working. Merlin, this was getting positively horrifying.

Ten minutes from then, though, he knew he'd have the NEWT level Slytherin-Gryffindor class. Unfortunately, there were more females than males. He needed to repel the little terrors somehow, but nothing worked. Frowning, he stared at the chalkboard. Hate potion seemed like a good one for them to brew. If anything, it'd at least make it so he wasn't getting jumped by seventeen-year-old girls.

He flicked his wand towards the chalkboard to write the instructions up there, even though none of them had the sense to glance up there to see his hints anyway. As soon as the chalk finished, he sat at his former desk, allowing his head to slam down with a loud groan. Why him?

~AGLSS~

Biting his bottom lip, a habit he unfortunately picked up from his four-year-old daughter, he glanced at the door. Any minute he'd have a horde of girls rushing in and fighting over the front seats. He swore, though, if he caught any of them wearing low-cut shirts again, he was expelling them on the spot. He didn't care who they were. He was the Headmaster, after all.

Hesitantly, he flicked his wand at the door to unlock and undo the wards around it. Here went nothing. He drew in a slow breath, waiting. When the door burst open a moment later, he winced visibly before expertly covering it. He kept his eyes far from the girls, acting like he was writing something. In reality, he was writing the word 'Help me' over and over on the parchment. Merlin, he would kill for a basilisk or troll right then.

He then cleared his throat, knowing that it was time to start class. He stood up, placing the quill down before walking towards the class. When he glanced up, he felt like someone punched him in the gut. Two of the girls were in their bras and short skirts, sitting and staring at him as if nothing was out of the ordinary. They even had the gall to bat their eyelashes at him.

"Mc—" His voice cracked as he quickly averted his eyes. "McGonagall's office _now_!" His voice uncharacteristically trembled. This had to be a nightmare. There was no way that two seventeen-year-old young ladies would show up to class in their bras and skirts.

"But, Professor Snape," they cried, sticking their lower lips out to him.

"_Now_, Miss Parkinson and Miss Brown," he hissed, feeling better as his temper took over. He could only imagine what his wife would say for this one. Pansy he could understand, but Lavender Brown, really? He watched the girls quickly button up their shirts before huffing out of the classroom. His eyes then scanned the rest of the room. The boys were drooling over the display, but the girls seemed to be drooling over him. _Please, Merlin, give me a basilisk now!_

"What will be brewing today, Professor Snape?"

_Granger, thank Merlin_, he thought. _She'll be sensible._ He then glanced at her and swallowed. _Or not._ He averted his eyes from her when he caught a glimpse of her stray thought. Sometimes he hated being a Legilimens.

"Hate potion, Miss Granger," he quietly answered, frowning. _Perhaps if I'm lucky you dunderheads will spill some and start to hate me again._

"Oh." Her face fell instantly, likely understanding his reasoning behind it.

"The instructions are on the board as is the page number. You have an hour. Get to work." He then whirled around, walking back to his desk to continue his 'help me' writing. He heard them slowly move towards the ingredients, but he kept his eyes firmly on the parchment. He could get through an hour with hormonal females.

Five minutes later, he glanced up, narrowing his eyes on his sons who appeared to be just sitting in front of their cauldrons. What in the world were those two doing? He stood up, briskly striding over to them. His eyes hardened on the two when they glanced up with twin smirks.

"Is there a problem, gentlemen?"

"Nope, no problem here," Harry replied. "Do you have a problem, Dray?"

"Not that I know of," the blond Slytherin said, shrugging.

"I suggest you two get to work now, gentlemen."

"Yes, sir," the two responded, quickly chopping their ingredients.

He frowned, wondering what had got into the two. However, he turned around and headed back up the aisle to his desk. He glanced into his students' cauldron as he moved, inwardly wincing at some of their attempts. The only student's potion that looked somewhere close to the right color was Neville Longbottom's. He supposed he could understand it. He had treated the young Gryffindor as bad as he had once treated Harry. A lot of hate festered between them.

"Excuse me, Professor Snape," Hermione softly said. "Could you help me?"

"With . . . ?" he drawled, glancing at her. She rarely asked for help.

"Well, it says here that I'm supposed to crush this, but it just won't crush, sir. It keeps slipping."

His eyes narrowed on Granger, but his suspicions lessened slightly. This was Granger. Sure, she was fantasizing about him ravaging her in front of the class, but she was far too brilliant to come up with an excuse that pathetic to get him to come closer. She did have some sense.

"Flatten it with the handle like this then, Miss Granger," he stated, moving behind her and gently placing his hand a top of hers with his other hand holding the round ingredient in place. He pressed lightly against her hand, sighing when the eyeball flattened a moment later. He then pulled back to continue towards his desk, only to find Granger grabbing a hold of his robes and yanking him forward. "Granger, unhand—" He sputtered a moment later when her lips crashed against his. Within seconds, he shoved her back as he took several steps back with his wand drawn. "You're expelled, Granger!" he roared, glaring daggers at her.

"Yes, sir," she said airily, standing up and skipping towards the door. She stopped at the door, though, turning around with a wide smile. "It was worth it, though, sir. You are a hell of a kisser."

"GET OUT!" he shouted, pointing towards the door. He heard several bottles rattle from the waves of raw magic he was giving off behind him. So, he glanced towards the rest of the class. "All of you, out NOW!" Had he not been assaulted, he would have chuckled at how fast they ran out.

Merlin, he needed a drink. He walked towards the wall, waving his hand at it to force the stones to separate and create an archway. Inhaling slowly, he headed to his mantelpiece and grabbed his opened bottle of Firewhiskey. He took a swig. On second thought, he'd drink the entire bottle.

~AGLSS~

Still down in his rooms from that morning, he glanced up from his chair towards the portrait of Salazar Slytherin. The Founder appeared to be eyeing him curiously. It was a bit . . . unsettling.

"Merlin, can't a man get . . . get drunk in his own rooms?" His words were horribly slurred, but he could care less. He took another swig from his bottle, frowning when he realized that it was empty. He tossed it aside and shattered it against the floor before attempting to stand. Slowly, he stumbled towards his kitchenette, heading for his stash under the sink. He needed another bottle.

When the portrait to his rooms swung open, he glanced towards it in mid swig. If his wife asked him why he was drinking, he'd tell her because of Granger assaulting him with her lips. It'd distract her from his uncharacteristic drinking.

"What in—"

That was a male's voice, not Harry or Draco's. He instantly grabbed his wand, pointing it towards the five shabby looking men. Merlin, he was drunk. He then caught something small beside the men. He couldn't help it.

"No more . . . no more kisses . . . Granger . . . not . . . not from me," he slurred towards the small female-looking person beside the man.

"Uncle Remy, why's Daddy acting funny?"

"El?" whispered Severus, sobering slightly. His daughter was home? But she was supposed to be with the wolf until ten. Was it ten? Had he really missed lunch and dinner? "Wolf," he said, feeling the insane urge to chuckle loudly when he heard himself. He forced himself not to, though.

"Maybe it'd be better if I took Angel to Minerva tonight."

"Why?" the little girl asked curiously. "Oh," she said a moment later. "Is it because Daddy needs to be alone with his letters?"

"Come on, Angel," Remus Lupin replied softly. "Your dad needs some time to himself tonight."

"Can I give Daddy a kiss first, Uncle Remy?"

"No," Severus answered, shaking his head for a moment before stopping when he nearly retched. "I . . . I don't smell good," he said weakly, feeling himself sober quickly from the look on his little girl's face. He had sworn never to drink in front of his children. He never wanted them to see that. "I'll-I'll give you two extra ones tomorrow, though."

"K, Daddy," his daughter replied with a wide smile. "All the girls will be _so_ jealous tomorrow," she said before walking away with Remus out of the rooms.

He stared at the closed portrait for a few minutes. Angel either knew what was going on and not letting it bother her or she was really oblivious. He frowned, taking another drink of his Firewhisky. Maybe if he replied to the fangirls now, severely inebriated, they'd leave him the hell alone.

Rearranging the stones again, he walked through the archway and headed up the staircase. He now understood how Dumbledore could move so fast through the castle. Being headmaster meant one could practically rearrange the castle to one's whims. Upon walking into the Headmaster's office, he groaned immediately at the sight of the massive piles of envelopes from floor to ceiling. He'd be here for days. He then sighed, swaying slightly before he headed towards his desk.

He flopped down into the high-backed chair, summoning his first letter. He broke the seal, frowning as he pulled the parchment out. He leaned back and skimmed it.

_Dear Headmaster Snape:_

_Words cannot even begin to describe what I feel for you. Your eyes are gorgeous black flames that engulf all who your eyes pass over. You can suck the air out of the room like space as you glide across the floor. Truly, Headmaster Snape—_

He rolled his eyes at the four-page letter. Dear, Merlin, that witch had gone on and on. He cleared his throat as he prepared himself to speak for the quill.

"Dear Ms. Walden. I appreciate your kind words. However, I am married so please move on with your pathetic life. Severus Snape." He watched the quill write every word, embellishing his words, of course, so they were semi-nice. He then flicked his hand towards it, sending it off to be folded before summoning the next letter.

_Dear Headmaster Snape:_

_For years, as one of your potions students, I hated you. I hated the ground you walked on. I hated the air you breathed. Now, however, after hearing about your heroic deeds, I find myself questioning all your actions. I finally understand that your snide comments to me were merely terms of endearment now. All the points taken were cries for my affections. I must apologize for being so obtuse, but I was only a child. I, therefore, feel I should inform you that I'm leaving my husband and baby, so we can be together. Forever._

_Eternally yours,_

_Amy Schechter_

He stared at the letter for a few minutes before recalling her. He shuddered instantly. She was by far the worst Potions student he ever had, and that was saying something since he had taught Tonks, Longbottom, and Potter. He then inhaled slowly.

"Mrs. Schechter, cherish your family and forget about me. In addition, might I recommend that you see the Mind Healers at once to see if someone stole your brain? You are married and a mother. Focus on that, and leave me the hell alone. Or else I shall request the Aurors investigate you for stalking. Severus Snape."

He then grabbed the next letter, wincing when glitter fell onto the desk. What the hell kind of person put glitter on a letter? He frowned, reading it.

_Headmaster Snape:_

_Marry me!_

"Ms. Meyer, while I like directness in my women, it was a bit too direct. In addition, what do you take me for? Placing glitter on your letter? I am not some damn pansy vampire, Ms. Meyer. Better luck next time. Severus Snape." He glared at the quill when it paused before finishing the line. He then summoned the next one and sighed. He was going to be here forever.

_Dear Headmaster,_

_Enclosed are a picture of me and a lock of hair. Use them to think of me tonight._

_Lustfully yours,_

_Dustin Rosen_

"Dear Mr. Rosen, thank you for the enclosed items. However, I regret to inform you that my daughter's pet crup Lola ate it. Severus Snape." He grabbed the next one, frowning when he recognized the writing.

_Dear Severus,_

_Arthur and I thank you very much for helping Harry. We can't even begin to express our happiness in knowing that Harry has such a fierce protector and one who loves him so much. Oh, Severus, I know that you hate hearing this, but I know Lily would be so proud of you two right now._

He glanced down at the desk, frowning. Even though, he had moved on with his life, it still hurt to hear such things. He then drew in a breath, finishing reading the letter.

"Dear Mrs. Weasley, thank you for your kind words. I am not sure how much of a role I played in the defeat, but thank you nonetheless. I believe you are right, though. Lily would be proud. At least prouder than she has been of me in the past when I was blinded by my childhood grudge and only saw James in him. I shall always be grateful to you and Arthur for ensuring that Harry was always well-fed and enjoyed a part of his childhood during visits at the Burrow. You both clearly have bigger hearts than anyone else. Thank you. Sincerely, Severus Tobias Snape."

The quill had paused after his second sentence, pointing at him for a moment as if it was shocked before writing feverishly. When it finished, it whipped its end back and forth. It then dropped to desk, lying there for a few minutes.

"Yes, you're probably right, quill." He drew in a breath before rising. "Finish the rest for me. I don't care what you say." He slowly walked towards the door to head down the staircase. He couldn't have been there more than an hour, so he still had three hours before his wife's last class to sober up.

~AGLSS~

Groaning, he grabbed his head. He was resting against something hard with something on him. He opened his eyes gingerly to see what it was, thinking it was Lola. However, it most definitely was not the crup. Seven fangirls lay either on him or beside him. Two rested their heads on his boots. Two rested on his legs. A few more rested beside him, while another rested her head on his shoulder. He then frowned, feeling something curled around his neck. Gently, he brushed his hand against it, frowning when he felt something soft.

Very lightly, he pulled off him a ferret that had curled itself around his neck. What in the world happened last night? He then noticed the spilled empty bottle of Firewhiskey. The girls, however, seemed no worse than wear, nor was the ferret. He then scoffed. Perhaps he should revise that. The girls and young Animagus were no worse for wear.

"Ladies and gentleman, kindly remove yourselves from my person this second," he spoke in a whisper, not wanting to aggravate his own hangover any more than necessary. He said nothing when they all woke, staring at him with owlish expressions. His eyes then narrowed when he noticed the numerous portraits. He had never left the Headmaster's office last night. "Explain."

"Well, you see, sir," one of the girls started to say.

"We were guarding you, Headmaster, to make sure no girls took advantage of you while you were passed out."

"Such as yourselves?" he asked, crossing his arms while sitting against his desk. For some reason, his neck felt as if someone had been gnawing on it. He shook it off, though.

"No, no, Headmaster," they all started to speak.

"We respect you too much to take advantage of you in that state."

"Yeah, what she said."

"Plus, I'd much rather you be sober, sir."

"Is that right, Miss Martin?" He then glanced towards the curled up ferret in his hands. "Mister Perry, I'd rather be speaking to you than your Animagus form." He said nothing when the young Ravenclaw changed back. "Which one of you was poking me?" he asked suddenly after remembering a slight hazy memory of it.

"I was, sir."

"Miss Dwyer, it is not wise to poke a man when he's sleeping." He then frowned. "I take it that you were also the one laughing loudly?"

"Yes, Headmaster," she replied quietly.

"And just what was funny?"

"She told me how you called Scabior a flea bag," Jamie answered, just barely holding back her laughter again, as another girl muttered under her breath.

"He is that, isn't he?" He then glanced at the remaining four fangirls. "You sang me a song, didn't you, Miss Marlow?"

"I did," she responded, nodding slowly.

"An excellent melody."

"What about me, sir? I sang to you too."

"You sang about him, Jenna," one of the girls said.

"I still sung."

"You sung nicely as well," he replied, sighing. "I seem to remember something about you," he said, glancing at another girl he hadn't addressed yet.

"Really, sir? And just what would that be?" The young woman's eyes shifted to the floor as she pressed her lips together.

"Something along the lines about you not wanting to say what you'd like to do to me." He softly chuckled when she winced. "And you, Miss Ansbach, just where is my Hangover potion you owe me?"

"I'll get it from my dorm, sir."

"See that you do," he replied, frowning. "Two hundred points to each of your Houses for protecting your Headmaster." When they all beamed at him, he gave them his best glare, which he knew wouldn't work with them. "Now get the hell out of my office." He watched them quickly do as he instructed. Slowly, he got up to his feet, glancing about his office. The quill appeared to have finished his letters sometime during the night, and as of seven o'clock there were no new letters. Thank Merlin for that. He couldn't really survive another onslaught.

He banished the mess of the spilled Firewhiskey and the empty bottle before he walked to his desk. He grimaced at the damn sparkles on his desk. Seriously, who in their right mind does that? He flicked his wrist towards it, igniting the glistening glitter and burning it off his desk. That was, after all, the only way to get rid of sparkles.

A knock at his door made him glance at it. His wife, no doubt, would have heard from Lupin how he had been drunk last night, but it was too early for her. He slowly sat down and sighed.

"Enter," he gruffly said. He then glanced upward before shaking his head. "Good morning, Mr. Malfoy." He frowned when Draco didn't say a word about the formality but instead started to pace the office like a caged animal. "What is it, Draco?"

"You can't expel Hermione, Severus. Please. She didn't mean to do that yesterday. She, well, she's a girl. She can't help being overly emotional and hormonal and all that. She's really, really sorry. She didn't mean it, though. She was just caught up in the moment."

"Mr. Malfoy," he started to say, only to be cut off by the seventh-year.

"If you expel her, then you have to expel me then, too, Severus. I love her, and, by Merlin, I'm not letting her go. So, either expel me now to let me go off with her or let me tell 'Mione that you changed your mind so she stops crying, Severus. I can't stand her crying anymore."

He stared at his adoptive son for a few minutes. He could tell that the young man clearly wasn't joking about leaving Hogwarts to be with his girlfriend. He, however, could not be seen as giving special treatment. He needed to be firm. He needed to be—Dammit.

"Inform Granger that she may remain at Hogwarts. However, she will serve two weeks' worth of detentions with Professor Sinistra." His wife would likely punish the young witch severely for kissing him. "If she steps a toe out of line, Mr. Malfoy, inform her that she _will_ be expelled and that is that."

"I'll tell her. Thank you, Severus." The young man then whirled around quickly walking out.

~AGLSS~

An hour later, inhaling slowly, he threw down the powder, hoping he wasn't hexed on spot. He felt the flames whisk him out of the Headmaster's office and into his rooms. Opening his eyes, he glanced around before he stepped out of the fireplace.

Harry and Draco were playing Wizard's chess at the island, and Angel was sitting on the sofa with Lola licking her face happily. His wife, however, was nowhere to be seen. It was clear to him, though, that she was awake by the sight of numerous Astronomy tomes scattered about the desk.

"Looking for me, Severus?" asked his wife behind him.

"Aurora," he said, quickly turning around. Her brown eyes held no fury luckily, but her robes were tightly wrapped around her not allowing any skin to show visibly.

"Miss Granger broke down in my class, confessing that she kissed you and that you expelled her as a result." She slowly drew in a breath. "And Draco informed me just a bit ago that you rescinded that, giving her detention with me instead."

"I did."

"Why?"

"She needs some form of consequences for her actions yesterday. It would be improper for me if I was the one she served detention with, so it was only natural that I'd—"

"Admit it, Severus. You gave her to me because you thought I'd be insanely jealous and irate with Miss Granger for kissing you."

"Yes, but—"

"She's a seventeen-year-old girl, Severus. If I had been in her position, I'd have done the same thing yesterday."

"You would have kissed your teacher in front of your housemates?"

"I likely would have done more if he looked like you," she admitted quietly. "Regardless, though, she does not need to face punishment for that. She's thoroughly mortified now as it is after coming down from her high."

"So, you're going to allow her to-to kiss me like _that_?"

"I've already informed her that she is to apologize to you for kissing you, but other than that, she's not receiving anything from me. She punished herself yesterday more than any detention with me would, Severus." She then placed a hand on his arm. "I'm fine with you and your little fangirls. In a way, it's nice to see you finally getting some attention. Plus, even though, I know you won't admit it, you love the attention they're giving you."

"You're all right with girls throwing themselves at me?" He had to have heard that wrong.

"I trust you, Severus. Hell, I'll even admit that I was one of your original fangirls. I can relate with them. I know exactly what it's like to look in your eyes and see those black orbs staring back at me. I remember withholding my squeals of delight when you'd say my name or just pass by me and incline your head." She then snorted, smiling softly. "You know, our daughter said something interesting this morning. She wanted to know if we were one of Daddy's fangirls."

"And what did you say?"

"Nothing," she answered calmly with a sly smirk.

"Oh." He supposed he could understand that. They weren't his fangirls. They were his family.

"You know, Severus, I saw several students today wearing rather interesting shirts. I, of course, asked them where they purchased them. Imagine my surprise when I found myself speaking to the president of Snape's Guttergirls." He winced, which made her laugh softly. "Tell me, Severus. What do you think about my shirt?"

He glanced up at her, narrowing his eyes. She was wearing her robes. His mouth then dropped when she opened her black robes and showed him her black and green shirt. He then looked up at her and then back down. What in Merlin's name?

"Aurora, why does your shirt say," he stopped speaking, pausing before continuing, "_that_?"

"It's my official Guttergirl's shirt, Severus. I paid ten galleons for it."

"Then you were ripped off," he mumbled, staring at the words.

"I think it's rather witty."

"You would," he grumbled. "It's mocking every time I give a detention."

"No, it's not, Severus. It's just promoting your catchphrase."

"Detention is not a catchphrase. It's a punishment."

"Oh, whatever," she said, rolling her eyes. "Personally, I find your Guttergirls to be rather cute. I mean, I could be wrong, but they did guard you last night when I was in class, didn't they?"

"Guard me?" he repeated with a growl. "They slept on me like I was a goddamn pillow."

"Well, you do make a rather good pillow, Severus."

"That's not funny, Aurora," he growled.

"I'm just saying, Severus, that the girls have good taste. Plus, I could be wrong, but I do believe you did enjoy it. You were smiling when I saw you this morning."

"You-you," he sputtered. "And you didn't do anything?"

"Oh, please, Severus, you were safe with them. Plus, Mr. Perry appeared to be making sure that the girls kept their hands to themselves." Aurora's brown eyes then glanced towards their daughter. "Love, show Daddy your shirt."

"You bought one for her, too?"

"She practically begged me to, Severus."

He glanced towards his four-year-old daughter, frowning. When the little girl pushed aside her outer robes, he grumbled under his breath about the whole word going to hell. Angel's shirt was the same color as his wife's, but his sweet daughter's shirt said 'Official Snape Guttergirl.'

"She is not one of my fangirls, Aurora."

"I beg to differ, Severus. She's one of your biggest fans."

"I would believe Miss Martin and her friends would argue, Aurora."

"Yes, probably, but everyone knows, Severus."

"Knows what exactly?" he grumbled, glaring at his wife.

"That all girls love Severus Snape."

He felt his lips curl upwards, but he made sure to smile inwardly. He had the insane urge to say 'Eat that, Marauders,' but didn't because Harry was in the room. Maybe life was good being a rock star and all that. He chuckled softly. Who would have guessed that Severus Snape, all around bastard usually, was a sex god?

**A/N: **Thanks for reading. Hope you enjoyed.


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